


Dibs

by dutchydoescoke



Series: texts from rose creek [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, Texts From Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9070534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchydoescoke/pseuds/dutchydoescoke
Summary: (774): i just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled "dibs!"...
Sam doesn't go to parties for a reason.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I lay the blame for this fic at the feet of liggytheauthoress, because it's all her fucking fault. I went "hey tell me I can't write a TFLN-inspired series where they're all in college" and she went "you really don't expect me to tell you no, right?"
> 
> So, it's her fault. I have no other excuse barring the fact that [Joshua Faraday is the patron saint of TFLN](http://addictsitter.tumblr.com/post/154196904538/joshua-faraday-patron-saint-of-textsfromlastnight). And the fact that I spend far too much time staring at TFLN posts while I'm working on the textsfromrosecreek blog on tumblr. IDK.

Sam avoids parties for a reason. There’s a neat, well-ordered list explaining precisely _why_ he avoids parties, with several points in order of priority.

The first six points on that list are all Josh Faraday.

Despite this, he still finds himself agreeing to go to the party Josh is hosting. He hates himself or he owes Josh a favor from a past life or something, because parties with Josh Faraday in attendance are bad enough.

Parties that Josh hosts often end with the cops called. On the good nights. Sam typically finds out about the bad nights on the morning news, right before Josh calls him and asks for bail money.

When he shows up on Friday night, the fact that Josh is going to get yet another noise complaint isn’t surprising. The surprising part is when he walks in and he very clearly hears someone yell dibs over the music pouring out of Josh’s abused stereo.

He’s not going to ask. He’s just going to get a drink, stay a polite amount of time and hide in the kitchen and then leave before he goes deaf. He has a plan. It’s a solid plan.

It doesn’t account for the two-hundred pounds of drunk Josh that slams into his side on his way towards the fridge, or the chatter in his ear that follows it at a volume loud enough that Sam can’t hear the music in that ear anymore. (Between Josh’s chatter and music he has no interest in, he’d take the music.)

“Saaaaaaaaaam,” Josh says, dragging it out into enough syllables to qualify as its own sentence. “Sam, you should meet a friend of mine. I think he thinks you’re cute. He tried to call dibs.”

“Not interested.” Sam shoves Josh off as nicely as he can and steps closer to the fridge. Josh tries to catch up and over-corrects, landing on the floor with a crash that makes Sam wince. When Josh doesn’t get up, Sam nudges him. “You know Vasquez will kill me if I’m responsible for your death, right?”

“I’m not dead, and you should go talk to him! He’s over there.” Josh flails a hand out in the direction of the living room but otherwise doesn’t move. Sam debates texting Vasquez to come collect his roommate and make sure he isn’t about to die from a concussion or something. “Bart, come meet Sam!”

Bart is, by all appearances, a creepy-looking guy wearing an overabundance of black. Sam can’t judge much on that part, but at least it doesn’t make him look like a creep. He spots Emma edging away from the guy and winces. He has no idea how the hell Josh finds these people, he really doesn’t.

“I’m leaving you here to die and claiming my couch back at your funeral,” Sam says to Josh, who still hasn’t moved off the floor. If Emma’s creeped out by the guy, Sam’s interest is even less. Emma’s a better judge of character than the person currently lying at Sam’s feet, at least. “I’m going. Apologize to your friend for me.”

“Sam, come on, he’s been bugging me about getting your number for days. Give him a reject number or something, if nothing else,” Josh says, looking up at Sam. At least Sam can be reasonably sure Josh isn’t going to pass out and die, if he’s capable of lifting his head. “Please, for the love of god. He won’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“So, you’re not actually friends with him?”

“Hell, no. I have better taste than that.”

Sam doubts that. Josh befriends total strangers for no reason other than having the same taste in whiskey sometimes. But he’ll be nice and give Josh the benefit of the doubt and assume that this guy really is the total creep that he seems to be.

“Fine, I’ll give him Billy’s number to shut him up,” Sam says finally, pulling out his phone to give Billy a heads up on what’s going on. “Will you please be more careful who you talk to from now on?”

“Yes, _mom_.”


End file.
